


Stranded in the Great Wide World

by Cryptographic_Delurk



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Gold & Silver & Crystal | Pokemon Gold Silver Crystal Versions
Genre: Adoptive family, Animal Abuse, Biracial Character, Daycare!Kotone not Champion!Kotone, Drama, F/M, Family, Fan theories, Gen, Police, Single Parents, Theft, criminal activity, this fic is half flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 20:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5553770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptographic_Delurk/pseuds/Cryptographic_Delurk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Due to an unfortunate run-in with the Kanto Police Force, Silver finds himself waylaid in Pallet Town with a woman he never needed.</p><p>Two years ago, travelling across the Johto region, Silver finds himself waylaid in the Ilex forest and with a girl he never needed.</p><p>It’s strange how wanting someone can be so much more powerful than needing them. Silver and two different relationships with two different women.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranded in the Great Wide World

**Author's Note:**

> Sections in italics are flashbacks.
> 
> Please Read & Relax!

Silver learned recently that travelling could be… fun.

He wouldn’t have admitted to it, except Kotone had hassled him, and begged him, and said that anything lovey-dovey was off limits until he said he liked travelling with her out loud. And finally, after weeks of enduring her constant pestering, he had, grudgingly, given in.

Silver had made the mistake of thinking the admission would get her to shut up about it, but instead, she blushed and giggled and pointed at his face and leered. “Ner ner ner ner na ner! Who was right? I was right! You liiiiike traveling with me! You liiiiiike me! You’re having fun under that frowny face!”

“Am not!” Silver snapped self-consciously, in direct violation of what he had said not a minute earlier.

“No take backsies!” Kotone had sung cheerfully and hugged him closely.

It had taken a whole ‘nother week for Silver to admit that it had been worth it – to see Kotone look that happy.

Travelling had once been… something else.

But now Silver didn’t have to travel alone. Even now, when Kotone was off studying at Pokémon Breeders camp, Silver wasn’t alone.

Silver’s Pokémon were with him.

Crobat, Gengar, and Sneasel are in their element, darting in and out of the shadows in the Seaform Island caverns. There are five torches encircling the arena, illuminating the awed faces of the gym’s trainees, but the torches and sudden bursts of flame don’t provide enough light to prevent Gengar from sneaking up unnoticed behind Magmar, and biting at his heels.

Feraligatr washes out the rest of the Leader’s Pokémon. Rapidash may be fast, but no fire Pokémon stands a chance against Feraligatr’s laser-precision water blasts.

The trainees groan in protest at Silver’s victory, but the old Leader, Blaine, only laughs as he calls his fainted Pokémon back into their Pokéballs.

“It looks like I’m all burnt out for now!” he admits. His dark glasses glint in the firelight.

Silver shivers. Why would anyone wear sunglasses in such a dark cave?

 _Fucking werido_ …

Blaine gives a cursory nod to Feligatr, right before Silver calls him back to his Pokéball. He knocks his cane against the rock floor of the arena in rhythm but, as he makes his way forward to Silver, he doesn’t lean on the cane at all.

“What an extraordinary battle! We’ll have to have a rematch, once I’ve finished rebuilding my Gym!” Blaine is saying, as he digs through his pockets for a Volcano Badge and a spare TM.

 _Humph,_ Silver snorts to himself. Blaine’s still talking, but Silver tunes him out.

That battle was hardly any challenge at all. He’s got better things to do than wait around for this old man to figure himself out.

Blaine’s calling to his trainees, telling them to wrap up for the day. He tells them to reflect on the recent battle, think about what they’ve learned, and take it to heart.

Silver wrinkles his nose in distaste, and steps back, but Blaine catches his hand and slaps the Volcano Badge and Overheat TM into his palm, forcing him into a handshake.

Silver yanks his arm away, taking his prizes with him. He can’t even use the TM – he has no fire Pokémon – but he’s not going to turn away anything he might be able to pawn off for a few Pokébucks.

The old man grins at him again, oblivious to Silver’s clear discomfort, and Silver’s not ready to hear anything he might have to say.

Silver turns out to be more right about that, than he ever would have suspected.

“You really are quite an amazing trainer,” Blaine says. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was genetic. Seems to run in your family, at the very least.”

Silver flinches. Then bristles.

“Why don’t you shut it?! Wha-?!” Silver begins. _What do you know about it, old man?!_

“Oh, no, I’m quite serious,” Blaine says, cutting him off. “Your battle style is very similar to your father’s – rushing in recklessly, and then having your Pokémon pull back, wearing down your opponent with evasive manoeuvres… I could never win against him, either… not for long, at least.”

“I didn’t learn to battle from my father,” Silver grits out, through clenched teeth. “What do you think you know about me? What do you know about my father?”

A look of surprise ghosts across Blaine’s face, but then he relaxes. “Infantile amnesia…” Blaine mutters to himself. “Common enough as to be practically universal… I guess you wouldn’t remember.” Blaine smiles. “You were only this tall,” he says, motioning to the height of his knee, “but we met at a function at the Pokémon Mansion, when you were little.”

Silver blinks, squinting at Blaine’s inscrutable face. No memories come popping to the surface.

Blaine clears his throat.

“Team Rocket was at its peak during those days – flying high. It was practically omnipresent in the realms of higher society and, as an important member of the scientific community at the time, there was no way I could _not_ have known your father.”

Silver feels his stomach flip in his gut.

 _Since he’s mentioned_ Team Rocket _… There goes Silver’s last hope that this is only a case of mistaken identity._

“I can’t say I’m not glad he’s gone,” Blaine admits, “but it’s nice to see you children making something of yourselves, in spite of the legacy that’s preceded you.”

Silver shivers. He doesn’t want to rely on this old creep, but he swallows his pride.

The words come out anxious and choppy, to his dismay.

“D-do you know… where my f-father is?” Silver says. “Wh-where I can find him?”

Blaine gives him a sad look. The shadows of the cave cast down over his face.

“I’m sorry, m’boy. I’ve long since fallen out with that crowd. I could not abide by the research practices of my academic colleagues, and we went our separate ways. And that was even before tensions with the Pokémon League and the Silph Corporation managed to pull your father’s organisation apart… What a horrible thing for you to be in the middle of, boy! And I hate to think of the inevitable casualties, when Silph and Devon finally throw down.”

Blaine shakes his head.

But Silver’s not ready to give up. Even though he wants out of this cave, and back out to camping on the tropical island beaches at dusk.

“D-do you know who my mother is?” Silver whispers.

Blaine holds his hand up to his chin and thinks before responding.

“I think her name was… _Alouette_? Although, we all just called her _Red_ … For her hair, you know,” Blaine says, waving at Silver’s head by way of explanation. “I’m afraid I don’t know what happened to her either, son.”

Silver tries to grumble indignantly, but only manages little huff of air that sounds more like a sigh.

Silver makes to turn away and find his pack at the corner of the arena. He pulls it onto his shoulders, and tries to drive thoughts of his father away with thoughts of Kotone.

“But, wait!” Blaine says suddenly, and he’s smiling that unsettling smile again. “Of course!” he exclaims to himself. “I know somebody who might be able to tell you more!”

And Silver puts on his best scowl, but he can’t stop himself from turning back to Blaine hopefully, as the old man pulls a pen and notepad from his pocket and scribbles something down in the dark.

He rips off the sheet of paper, and rushes over to hand it to Silver.

“There’s her name. And the name of her business, if I’ve remembered it correctly,” he says, excitedly. “But it’s not really important. Pass through Pallet Town on your way north,” he instructs. “Ask anybody there for _Delia_ , and I’m _sure_ they’ll point you in the right direction.”

==

_Silver was digging frantically through his bags in the middle of the path through Ilex forest. Not one, not two, but all three of his Pokémon were keeled over, overcome with poison, even Ghastly, who was a poison Pokémon himself and should technically be above all that. Zubat was the only one that was conscious and healthy enough to remain outside of his Pokéball, and he didn’t even have the energy to fly anymore._

_“Hang on, goddamit! We’re strong. We’re stronger than this!” Silver says firmly to Zubat. Perhaps he misplaced an antidote in the main compartment of his bag or something._

_Zubat whimpers weakly._

_Another bug Pokémon, a Metapod, descends from the forest canopy to loom uncomfortably over Silver’s head._

_“Not now, goddamit!” Silver says, batting the Metapod with his hand. The Metapod is relentless, and Silver is forced to pick up his bag in one hand, and Zubat in the other, and sprint further along the path to get away from it._

_He reaches a fork in the road and pauses briefly. It’s as good a place as any to try searching through his bags again._

_Until he hears voices behind him on the path._

_“There he is! Over there!”_

_Shit!_

_Had the police seen him when he was in Azalea? Did they have his profile? They had to know it was a Tortodile he stole, at least. And he had certainly made enough of a spectacle of himself and his Croconaw in that fight with Hibiki._

_The police had never bothered with Team Rocket for too long. But Team Rocket had had teams of minions and spies, and money to hand out as bribes, and Silver had…_

_Silver tries his best not to hurl, catching the bile in his mouth. There’s enough to think about without..._

_Silver had only eighteen hundred Pokédollars – stolen off an old lady…_

_And Hibiki had taken more than half of that when he won their fight._

_Silver curses, the voices were getting closer._

_“Did you see him?! The one with the-”_

_Silver pulls at his distinctive red hair in vain. He holds Zubat tighter to his chest before jumping off the path and tumbling between the trees of the Ilex forest._

_From there it’s a three minute sprint._

_“Did you hear that?!” one of the voices says. “Where is it-?”_

_The bug Pokémon are finally bugging off, at least, Silver thinks. They’re retreating from the loud sound of his footsteps as he charges through the forest, away from the path and the voices._

_Eventually he has to stop though. He’s making a racket._

_He stops abruptly and moves as quickly and quietly as he can a dozen feet away, before dropping to the ground behind an old Juniper._

_The bugs are on him at once. He bites his own lip and shoves Zubat down the front of his jacket, before zipping it up as far as it can go. He pulls his sleeves down to cover his hands and flips his collar up to protect his neck. The last thing he needs is to get sick from their bites and stings as well._

_It’s an eternity, lying there with the bug Pokémon crawling over him. Silver closes his eyes tight and tries to listen for the voices in the distance, but he only hears the humming and buzzing of the bugs._

_He waits there for as long as he can manage, but around half-an-hour later, he pulls himself up to standing and shakes the Weedle and other Pokémon off of himself._

_Zubat has fainted at this point. He’s slumped unconscious inside of Silver’s jacket, and Silver leaves him there. He pulls one last Caterpie off the back of his jeans, and listens._

_He can’t hear any voices anymore. He can’t hear anything, other than the silence of the forest. He blinks rapidly, but it’s hard to see in the shade of the trees. It could be midday, but you wouldn’t know it from the way the canopy throws the whole forest into darkness._

_It’s about that time Silver realises – he’s lost the path completely._

_He walks, stumbling over tree roots and into branches, waving away the ever-present bug Pokémon, trying to find a way out._

_And Silver fights back tears, because this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He wasn’t supposed to end up stuck in a blasted forest with a bunch of fainted and profoundly_ weak _Pokémon. Is this how his whole life is going to go – stranded, dying here, before he’s ever had a chance to become strong?_

_Before he’s ever had the chance to meet his father again?_

_It’s a long time walking, but eventually he comes to the edge of a clearing._

_The sun isn’t overhead, but light seems to be shining down through the trees anyhow, as if from nowhere. Silver’s drawn to it, walking out of the trees and into the airy warmth of the clearing._

_The light is congregating at the centre, and Silver sees a small wooden roof, and hurries towards it. His shoes brushing through the grass, and he’s still holding Zubat in one arm against his chest as he lopes forward._

_It’s a shrine. That’s all it is._

_A small poorly-made wooden shrine, and Silver nods his head awkwardly, before he remembers that a show of respect is as good as surrender._

_He snarls and pulls open the grate on the wooden offering box, only to find it empty. Slamming the grate shut, he examines the base of the shrine, and finds only a few withered flowers littering the foundation._

_Just his luck that this shrine be as poor and destitute as he is._

_He knocks the wilted flowers out of the way and sits down at the base of the shrine, leaning his back against the wooden panels._

_It’s warmer here than in the forest proper. And the bug Pokémon aren’t attacking him here, almost as if they have respect for the shrine. He feels absurdly safe._

_He closes his eyes._

_Time seems to stop. The daylight and the sun and the moon, and even the wind rustling through the trees. Nothing moves. His thoughts stall, and he has no idea how long he sits there. He has no idea if his heart’s still beating, for all that he’s paying attention Zubat, and how his chest expands and contracts – the proof that he’s merely unconscious and not dead._

_Silver’s eyes are still closed, and he doesn’t know if he’s asleep or awake, but his whole world is Zubat’s heartbeat._

_And then she arrives._

_He can hear her humming, and Silver startles and his eyes peel wide open._

_He ducks down from where he’s sitting under the shrine, but there’s nothing to hide him._

_And then she steps around the corner, up the path and into the clearing and he can hear her humming and the swishing sound of the spray bottle._

_“Na-na-na, five Politoed in the pond~”_

_He blinks again and he can see her._

_She has a pair of overall shorts, a white blouse, and a little yellow backpack swung over her shoulder. Her hair is pulled into two short pigtails that hang down easily, bobbing over her shoulders._

_The girl notices him, and she stops singing._

_Silver has to force himself not to cower, as she runs forward to greet him._

_“Hello!” she says brightly. “Did you come with an offering, too? I don’t recognise you. Are you from around here?”_

_Silver blinks up at her._

_She hesitates for a moment, before she shakes the spray can in her hand and spritzes the air._

Shit. He should say something. Before she gets the wrong idea.

_“Er, no,” Silver says. “I mean- I didn’t know this shrine was here,” he explains. “I was just-”_

_He waves lamely at the trees surrounding them._

_The girl blinks, and then a look of concern crosses her face._

_“Did you get lost in here?” she asks. “This is an easy place to get stranded, if you don’t know your way.”_

_Silver stands, thinking he should make his escape, but the girl notices the lump hiding under his jacket._

_“Is- is that a_ Pokémon _?!” she asks. “Are they hurt?!”_

Humph. _Feeling caught, Silver zips down the front of his jacket, and Zubat falls limply down into his hands._

_“Oh no!” she says, with such feeling Silver’s almost willing to bet it’s sincere. “That’s horrible! Have all your Pokémon fainted?”_

_She pulls her backpack off her shoulder, stows away the spray can, and pulls out a syringe – one Silver recognises as one of the standard Antidotes they sell in the Pokémarts._

_“May I?” she asks, reaching forward for Zubat’s wing._

_Silver flinches, but against his better judgement, he holds Zubat forward._

_She’s careful as she administers the Antidote. She finds a good spot against Zubat’s back and, once she’s finished giving the injection, she dabs at the puncture wound softly with the bandage that’s come strapped to the syringe._

_Zubat seems to relax, even in his dazed state, and when the girl nods comfortingly to Silver, he pulls Zubat back up against his chest in relief._

_Then the girl reaches forward, and Silver startles as she grabs his wrist._

_“Don’t worry,” she says. “I can lead you out of here, no problem. Us locals know what we’re doing! Just let me put down the offering, and we’ll be out of here in a jiffy.”_

_Silver watches fascinated as she pulls him away from the shrine and to her side._

_She digs through her bag and pulls out some mochi cakes and incense. She arranges them on the shirne’s platform and lights the incense using a book of matches she’s pulled from her pocket._

_She clasps her hands and bows her head, and elbows Silver in the chest when he doesn’t immediately follow suit._

_Silver, feeling bewildered and unwilling to think too much about the situation, holds up one hand (the other is still holding Zubat) and bows._

_And they stand there, together, until the incense burns out._

_“Alright!” the girl says brightly. She claps her hands together and digs through her bag again, retrieving the spray bottle._

_She sprays the bottle, before grabbing his wrist again and starting him off walking behind her._

_“So that shrine may seem small and rickety, but it’s been around since my grandparents were little. It’s fallen out of style to visit and leave offerings, especially with the younger crowd, but they still send me with something for the forest guardian every once in a while when work isn’t too busy. They say that the forest protector is a Mythical Pokémon that-”_

_“Wait a minute,” Silver interrupts. “Do you even have a Pokémon with you? How are we going to get out of here without the bug Pokémon attacki-”_

_The girl turns to him, and looks at him dumbly._

_“Repel,” she says easily, as she taps her finger to the spray can. Her eyes widen. “Which reminds me – you should probably return your Zubat to his Pokéball. The smell really bothers Pokémon. Even unconscious ones.”_

Oh.

_Silver digs in his pocket for Zubat’s Pokéball, and returns his Pokémon._

_The girl has turned away again, and she’s off talking about something else._

_“-and my Marill isn’t much of a fighter, especially against the bug and grass types in this forest, but-”_

_Silver reaches for his right hand and circles his fingers around where the girl had held his wrist and blushes._

_He follows her, and there are no interruptions. The girl talks, and nothing bothers them until they reach the northern edge of the forest._

_“Hey!” a boy with a bug catcher’s net calls to the girl. “What are you doing so far away from the Pokémon Day Care by yourself? And who’s this guy?” he asks, casting a dirty look at Silver._

_Silver bristles, and he’s about to say something he shouldn’t._

_The girl doesn’t give him a chance, though._

_“Piss off, Wayne!” she snaps. “It’s none of your business where I go and who I’m with!”_

_She grabs Silver, by the hand this time, and drags him off through the forest checkpoint. And Silver can’t help but step closer to her and throw a smug look back over his shoulder at the bug catcher._

_The girl holds his hand until they’re out on Route 34, at which point she drops it unceremoniously._

_“Sorry about that,” she says. “It’s just- I’ve known Wayne since we were little, and he seems to have gotten the wrong idea about our relationship… you know what I mean?”_

_“Undoubtedly,” Silver says simply, even though he really has no idea what she’s talking about._

_“Well, you helped me out a lot there.” She smiles at him. And Silver tries not to scowl, even though she’s the one who’s been helping him._

_The girl reaches into her bag and pulls out a Pokéball – “We shouldn’t have any trouble with wild Pokémon on this route, so…” She releases the button, so that a Marill appears beside her._

_And Silver tenses, because he has no way of battling a Pokémon._

_But Marill only looks shyly up at Silver (“’rill- ‘riiiilllll!”), and the girl picks him up to introduce them._

_Silver, feeling stupid, waves awkwardly at the Pokémon._

_He feels vulnerable and naked in front of her without a Pokémon of his own, but the girl doesn’t seem to care. She and her Pokémon only lead him up the road, to a house that’s tucked neatly into the side of the route. It has a bright red roof, and a picket fence, and a gated yard where a bunch of strong-looking Pokémon are playing._

_She fumbles for a key in her pocket and unlocks the door, ushering him inside behind her._

_“This is my place,” she says. “Or my grandparents’ place.”_

_She peels off her sneakers and leaves them in the entryway._

_“And I don’t just invite anybody here!” she says, turning back to shoot him a look that’s between a scowl and a glare. “It’s just your Zubat is hurt, and I thought I’d go get the first aid kit and we could make sure he’s okay before you go.”_

_Silver nods dumbly._

_“Alright, stay right here,” she says, pointing at him commandingly, before she walks past the small entry hall, past the living room and around a corner._

_And Silver eyes Marill, expecting her to leave it behind to keep an eye on him, but Marill just squeaks and bounds after her through the house, and Silver is left alone in the room._

_He looks around._

_There’s a bookshelf to the side, with what looks like a gold watch on top. There’s an ornate decorative box on the table, next to a crystal figurine of a Mareep. He can see the door to the kitchen and, if he rustles through the drawers in there, he can probably find some silverware. He’s getting low on funds, and all of those things would pawn for a good price._

_Except there are other things in the room, too – notebooks stacked on the table, a dirty hand towel thrown over the couch, and the girl’s shoes at his feet, next to an old leather pair of men’s shoes and a flowery pair of slippers._

_And he_ can’t _steal these people’s_ things _, any more than he can wait around for more pity. Their granddaughter helped him out, when he didn’t need it, and didn’t deserve it, and hadn’t even asked for it. And she trusted him enough to let him into her house – which was stupid – and Silver doesn’t_ belong _here. This house is all too perfect and all too uncomfortable for Silver all at once._

_Because he doesn’t have anything. There’s no way for him to repay her, except with violence._

_The best thing to do, he decides, is to leave before his resolve breaks and he takes something. He doesn’t have to worry about wild Pokémon along this route, right? All he needs to do is make it up to the Pokémon Center in Goldenrod._

_So that’s what he does. He slips back out the door and runs the rest of the way to Goldenrod in the twilight, without ever having learned the girl’s name._

==

The building barely looked like a restaurant. It looked like any other house, sitting smack dab imbetween all the other houses in the residential district – white lace curtains, slanting roof, and a wooden door with a round brass handle and knocker. Silver would not have known it was a restaurant at all, if it didn’t have a small cardboard plaque placed in the corner of one of the windows. The faded letters were handwritten in black marker.

**_Pallet House_ **

_Home Cooking Tuesday through Sunday, 3pm to 9pm_

_Inquire inside about our Lunchbox Delivery Services!_

Silver checked his father’s wristwatch. It was closing in on four in the afternoon, as good a time as any to get a closer look at the Pallet House and its owner, whoever she was.

… if he was actually going to do this.

Because while it hadn’t seemed like a bad idea to Surf over to Pallet Town after his discussion with that weird Gym Leader (he was headed in that direction anyhow), to actually walk into some dingy hole-in-the-wall to talk to some lady to see if she had any information about him or his mother…

The whole idea seemed absurd at best and humiliating at worst.

Silver shuffled from foot to foot.

Suddenly, a man in a sweat jacket ran quickly up the street. He was hunched over, leaning forward as he and barrelled past where Silver was standing, before he rocketed around the corner a couple houses down.

Silver looked after him nervously. He never liked small towns. You were likely to be the only one out walking on the street and people were always paying attention to you. Silver had enough trouble with the red hair, and without a crowd to get lost in… well, he _needed_ a crowd to get lost in.

That was another reason to just leave, without worrying about Ms _Pallet House_.

But, on the other hand, Kotone wouldn’t be done with her Pokémon Breeders training for another month or two, so he might as well waste some time here.

But…

Silver ran through the options several more times in his head.

He was just about to decide that, Delia, whoever she was, wasn’t worth all this trouble when…

“There he is! That’s him alright!”

From up the street, a white haired old lady was shaking her cane and pointing at him with a crooked finger.

That in of itself wouldn’t have worried Silver, had she not been flanked by two police officers, one tall and one short.

Silver took a couple steps back and readied himself to run, before he stopped himself.

He wasn’t the man he was two years ago.

Silver rooted his feet in the ground and held his head up as the officers and the old lady ran up to see him.

“Tha- that’s h- hu- him!” the old lady said, huffing and puffing, clearly out of breath.

“Uh, excuse me?” Silver said, trying to sound confused.

From the way the officer’s tensed as he talked, it hadn’t worked.

“That’s the one who took my purse!”

“What, I-?” Silver started.

“Sir, you are the one who took Mrs Miyako’s bag,” the tall officer said. It wasn’t a question.

“No, I-”

“She said you ran past her and swiped it while she was walking in front of the park,” the short officer said.

“I didn’t-”

“Now don’t cause any trouble,” the tall officer said. “We may not even have to file a report-”

“Look,” Silver snapped, “I don’t have a fucking purse on me, do I? I’ve been standing here this whole time.”

Dammit, Silver knew that didn’t prove anything. The first thing you did with a stolen bag was swipe the cash and dump the rest, before anyone could track you down.

“Now see here,” the tall officer said. “Where did you put-”

“No!” the old lady shouted over him. “I know it was him! It was a real thuggish looking boy. Just like this one here!”

“Hey!” Silver felt himself burn red in embarrassment. “Listen here, you old bitch! I didn’t choose to be born with this face! Ya’ hear?”

The old lady gasped. “Officers, did you hear what he called me! This young man-!”

“I saw some other guy run down the street just a minute ago,” Silver interrupted, turning toward the officer. “He didn’t have red hair, did he, whoever stole this old lady’s purse?” he asked, pulling self-consciously at his hair.

The short officer turned to look at the other. They shared a look.

“Mrs Miyako, you didn’t mention red hair in your description.”

The old lady sniffed. “He ran by so quickly, I might have mistaken it for black.”

“It is rather distinctive hair, though,” the short officer allowed. “It seems like it would be pretty hard to miss.”

The old lady gave him a long, hard look.

“I guess it’s possible it might have been someone else, but I still think you should search ‘im!”

The short officer sighed. “Mrs Miyako, we can’t just-”

“Wait a minute,” the other officer said. He pulled a something out of his pocket that looked a lot like a PokéGear. “Teenager. Mean face. Deep _red_ hair. Doesn’t that match the description from one of the Johto lists?”

Shit. Silver should have guessed that bringing up his hair colour would backfire spectacularly.

The short officer looked at him suspiciously. “Why are you standing outside Delia’s in the first place? You said you were _standing here the whole time_? That sounds an awful lot like loitering to me…”

“What? No, I-”

There was a ringing sound, as the restaurant door opened. A woman stepped out, down onto the front steps. She was wearing an apron, sandals, and a handkerchief over mousy brown hair, and she was holding a plate of tempura and a pair of metal tongs in her left hand.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but… Is there a problem out here?” she asked, smiling at the officers.

“Oh, Hanako,” the taller officer said, giving the woman a cursory glance.

“She keeps telling you to call her Delia,” the shorter police officer sighed.

“Kaito,” the woman said dangerously, addressing the tall officer. “Don’t call me Hanako anymore. My name is Delia. Call me Delia.”

The tall police officer shrugged. “We’ll be out of your hair soon. We just found this kid, wanted for burglary. Broke into some professor’s lab in Johto.”

“And for stealing my purse!” the old lady cut in.

“Dammit, I didn’t steal your purse, old lady! And I talked to the professor already and we sorted it out!” Silver snapped.

There was a crash as the plate went down, and pieces of fried shrimp went flying everywhere.

Silver looked up at the woman, Delia.

Her lips were pressed together tightly, her face was pale, and her eyes were wide. She didn’t spare more than a customary glance at him before turning to the officers.

“There’s been some mistake,” she said.

“You know this kid, Delia?” the shorter officer said. “We found him loitering outside your place.”

“Loitering?” she said blankly, before catching herself. “Oh no no. He’s, well, he’s my guest, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” the tall officer said, still fiddling with his PokéGear and looking unconvinced.

“He’s my guest,” Delia repeated, more confidently this time. “If he’s caused any trouble, it’s my responsibility. Completely.” She turned to the old lady. “Mrs Miyako, your purse, you said? I’m sure I can cover the cost to replace it.”

“I didn’t steal anyone’s purse!” Silver shouted.

“At the moment, we believe the purse and the burglary to be separate incidents, committed by different criminals. But, in any case, we’ll be taking him into the station to search his person and confirm his identity.”

“But is that really necessary?” Delia asked slowly. “Can’t we just sort this out here? I’m sure this has all been blown out of proportion…”

“And what the hell do you know about it?” Silver said angrily. “I have no idea who the hell you are! What do you think you know about me?! Who do you think you are butting in now?!”

He turned his head to hide the tears that were springing to his eyes.

It seemed Hanako, or Delia, or whoever this was really did know who he was. Or who his father was at any rate. She didn’t really know him at all, and her help was completely unwelcome. Silver was a grown man now, and he didn’t need any absentee adults from the past showing up now to try and take control of his life.

He meant to be firm, intimidating.

But Delia looked at him, and seemed to sigh with relief.

She turned back to the officers.

“You really must take him into the station?”

The officers nodded.

“How serious is it?” she pleaded.

“We can’t say yet,” the shorter one replied.

“Well, then,” she said, pulling off her apron, “just give me a second to close down the store and I’ll be right with you. You see, he really is just a kid.”

==

The police station was crowded. Every available surface was covered in stacks of paperwork and tchotchkes. There were no less than thirty potted plants cluttering the entranceway, and several confiscated bikes were leaning against the walls here and there.

On the other hand, it was also the smallest police station Silver had ever seen. There didn’t seem to be anybody working there except for the two officers that had brought him in, although there was a mysterious third desk and locked office with _Chief_ written on the door.

 _Tiny hick town,_ Silver thought bitterly.

Delia was sitting up straight in the chair next to him, her eyes fixed resolutely forward towards the officers, refusing to meet his. The shorter police officer, the one who Delia called Officer Ichikawa, was flipping idly through Silver’s wallet.

The other officer, Officer Kaito, was trying to stare him down. It was laughable. The man was so outclassed he didn’t even know it.

“Name?” the officer asked, slowly.

“Silver,” Silver allowed, sending a courtesy glare at the officer.

“Date of birth?” Officer Kaito continued.

 _Humph._ Silver saw no reason to answer that question. He crossed his arms and turned his head away pointedly.

“Little shit,” the officer grumbled. “Listen, here. You better start cooperating, or- or-”

_What a joke._

“O-officer Kaito, may I speak to you in private?” Delia said, standing up and knocking her chair backwards.

Kaito looked suspiciously at her, and then glared back at Silver one more time before nodding and directing her to back into another room.

Delia bowed very slightly and walked through the doorway ahead of him.

Silver watched them. They could be seen through the office window, but none of their speech was audible. Must have been soundproofed.

“Let’s see. Twenty three… four… nine…” Officer Ichikawa said, counting aloud as he sorted through the last of Silver’s change. “Twenty thousand five hundred and twenty-nine Pokédollars,” he set that down and tapped his finger on another pile of money in a plastic sandwich bag to the side, “and another six thousand, hidden under the sole of your shoe.”

Silver glared at him as he rubbed his socks together under the chair.

“You know it’s technically against League rules to conceal spare cash on your person, right?” Ichikawa asked.

The Pokémon League Rules were not under the jurisdiction of the Kanto Police Force, Silver knew.

“You can call Lance over here if you’ve got a problem with it,” Silver said coolly.

Ichikawa shrugged. “I was just checking to make sure you knew.” He sighed. “And, anyway, the important part is that Mrs Miyako said she had just under ten thousand Pokédollars in her purse, and here you have ten thousand and then some.”

“So,” Silver sniffed. “I told you I didn’t touch the old hag’s purse. I’m a trainer. Those are my winnings.”

“Do you think it makes a difference?” the police officer asked. “I got her to go home, but that ‘old lady’ isn’t backing down, and you’re already in hot water over this Johto charge. I’m not sure I can get out of holding you at the station as is, and I certainly won’t be able to if you insist on being so stubborn over this.”

“I said I worked it out with the professor!” Silver snapped.

“So you say,” the officer allowed, “but it will be a while until we can get the Johto Police to check and confirm that, since the professor never formally withdrew his report, and then another while before their updated records sync with ours.”

Silver clenched his teeth. He’d deal with that next, but for the time being…

“The Cinnabar Gym,” he grit out. “I know the gyms keep records of how much money they win and lose. You can contact the old creep who runs the place and he’ll tell you that I won it.”

“Since the gym’s relocation underground, our communication lines haven’t been as good. It could take weeks to get ahold of their financial reports. I don’t think either of us have that kind of time.”

Silver crossed his arms again and sneered. “I think you’ve made it clear that _I_ have the time.”

It had taken the officer and hour to calm down the old lady and get her to go home, and that was on the promise he would deliver the stolen money the next day. The bastard probably didn’t want the old lady breathing down his neck the whole time.

Well, the police could suck it. Nobody seemed too concerned about inconveniencing him, so Silver wasn’t about to start caring about causing trouble for them.

Officer Ichikawa sighed. “C’mon, kid, she’s letting us off on the cost of the purse itself, which is no small deal considering its designer. If you’re that good of a trainer, you’ll win the money back in no time.”

Silver didn’t bother to deign that with a response.

Officer Ichikawa sighed again. “I can’t make you pay it. But, you know, if you don’t, she will.”

He inclined his head, back towards the room where Delia was standing with the other officer. Silver couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but the discussion appeared to have gotten a lot more heated, considering the way they were bristling at one another.

Silver ground his teeth together. “Why would she do that for me?” he asked.

“You tell me,” Ichikawa replied.

There was a moment where Silver sat there silently. He was suddenly overcome with the intense realisation that the officer was looking at him very closely, intently, although his face was carefully composed to mask his apparent interest.

It was rather vexing.

In the other room, Delia continued her argument with the other officer.

Silver reached across the table and grabbed his money. “Screw you,” he bit out, as he quickly counted out ten thousand Pokédollars and tossed them across the table.

The officer picked up the money from where it landed on the table and stowed it away in the drawer.

“Actually, it was only nine thousand eight hundred she said was taken,” he said neutrally. “Here’s your change.” He pulled a two hundred Pokédollar coin out of his pocket and tossed it back at Silver.

“Screw you!” Silver repeated, as he caught the coin in mid-air and shoved it into his wallet, which he then shoved angrily into his pocket. “All you fucking police dogs are the same. You don’t actually care about what’s just or correct. You’re just trying to make your own lives as easy as possible. Well, the fuzz can go to hell for all I care! Probably the last worthwhile thing you did was fucking your mother.”

“Hey now,” Officer Ichikawa said sharply. “You know you still need my help to get out of this mess, right?”

Silver was about to offer increasingly explicit details about the officer’s supposed affair with his own mother, but he was cut off by a flash of movement in the background. He jumped slightly in his seat as, on the other side of the window, Delia finally got fed up and slapped Kaito, across the face.

She then proceeded to the door and struggled to turn the lock as she burst back out into the main room of the station.

Officer Kaito regained his bearings quickly and pursued her. “What was that for?! That really hurt, you know?” He massaged his jaw dramatically.

“No it didn’t,” Delia responded snippily, as she walked back towards where Silver was sitting.

“Well, no,” Kaito agreed, dropping his hand. “But- Look, Hanako, you’re being rash.”

“Kaito,” Delia snapped, “I didn’t care about anything you had to say when we were thirteen, and I’m not about to start now.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond before turning away. “Officer Ichikawa,” she prompted.

“Ah, Delia,” he said, brightening slightly. “You’ve come to a mutual decision then.”

“Yes,” she replied succinctly.

“Then it’s just a matter of filling in the right forms,” Ichikawa responded, as Delia bowed to him and Kaito scowled in the background. “I trust Kaito didn’t get us banned from the restaurant again.”

“That decision’s pending,” she said, glancing angrily towards Kaito out of the side of her eye.

“Well, I hope it comes down in our favour,” Ichikawa smiled. “Officer Kaito, please escort the delinquent to one of the temporary holding cells and hurry back so we can put everything in order.”

“My shoes,” Silver frowned.

“Your shoes,” Ichikawa agreed, picking them up off the table and handing them over to Silver. “And get him a drink of water, too,” he added to Kaito, who nodded and didn’t wait for Silver to put on the shoes before dragging him away roughly by the arm.

It was a long time waiting in the cell, with his shoes replaced and an empty water glass lying next to him. It was one of the older ones, with bars across the front, and covering a small window on the ceiling. It had gotten dark out in the meantime, and Silver could hear the wind rustling the trees outside.

What was he doing here? Becoming strong? Was that what this was?

His hand twitched towards the Pokéballs at his belt. _Amateurs,_ leaving him with his Pokémon like this. Any one of them could bust him out of the place. Alakazam could bend the prison bars apart with his mind alone.

Yes, that wasn’t a bad idea.

“Alakazam,” Silver hissed under his breath, tapping his Pokéball against the floor as quietly as he could.

The Pokémon materialised in front of him. Alakazam raised up the spoons in his hands and yawned sleepily.

“Use Psychic to distort the bars,” Silver commanded in a whisper.

Alakazam looked at the prison bars, and then back at Silver. Then he waddled past were Silver was standing and climbed on the cot that was laid out in the room.

“What you’re not going to do it?!” Silver hissed.

Alakazam met Silver's eyes lazily and waved his hand in a circular condition.

 _Ugh_ , Psychic Pokémon were more trouble than they were worth. Silver creased his brow as he felt the vibrations Alakazam was sending him and the way his own thoughts rearranged as a result.

“Argh, what am I doing here? I have someone waiting for me in Johto.”

_That’s right, so you can’t afford to mess up. Do you want to spend your whole life running away? How much do you think Kotone will put up with?_

“What the hell am I supposed to do?”

_Sleep._

“Stupid Pokémon,” Silver grumbled, climbing up onto the cot after Alakazam, who was already beginning to nod off.

He rested his head against the Pokémon’s chest. Alakazam was warm, unlike Feliagatr, who was cold blooded, or Magneton, who was metallic, or Gengar, who wasn’t corporeal.

“Are you thirsty? I drank all the water already,” Silver muttered.

Alakazam was already snoring. Silver concentrated, but he couldn’t identify a psychic response either.

It was a while longer, falling into and out of sleep, before Silver heard the rattle of keys and the bars swing open. He sat up quickly, pulling his face away from Alakazam’s fuzzy stomach.

Both officers were there, and the woman, Delia. They all looked tired.

Silver quickly wiped the drool off his cheek and returned Alakazam, who was still fast asleep, back into his Pokéball.

Officer Kaito raised his eyebrow appraisingly.

“Okay, wake up, it’s time to go home,” Officer Ichikawa said.

“Whu-” Silver babbled, eyes scanning around, and looking up at the moon, high in the sky outside the window.

_Home?_

“There were some interruptions, and it took a bit longer than we thought it would to get clearance, but you’re all set,” Officer Ichikawa said. “Delia will be taking care of you then.”

Silver looked at the woman. Delia, or Hanako perhaps, who was the epitome of average - close to his height (a hair taller than Officer Ichikawa) and wearing a conservative purple sweater. Delia, who had some connection with his father, or some connection to his even more mysterious mother.

Officer Ichikawa turned to Delia. “You do understand that he should remain on your property for the duration of his stay, that you are responsible for his health and safety during that time, and that, if he goes missing before we can get this mess fully sorted, _you_ will be the one held responsible to the fullest extent of the law.”

“Yes,” Delia said solemnly.

Silver rolled his eyes. They would have gone over this already. Clearly the show was for his benefit.

“In that case, Delia will be your de facto guardian for the next few weeks, since you are a minor and all. Please behave yourself.”

“If you get her into trouble…” Kaito growled.

Silver didn’t more than glance at him as he walked past.

After that, the officers saw them to the exit, and waved them off hurriedly, clearly intent on wrapping things up to return home themselves.

Then it was only Silver and Delia, walking silently, side by side, through the streets of Pallet Town. It was dark and quiet, and the only sound was the whistling of wind as it blew past.

_Tiny hick town…_

“So who the hell are you anyway?” Silver asked, when he finally couldn’t stand it anymore. “How do you know me?”

Delia did her best to look surprised, although Silver saw her face twitch into a frown.

“Who me? I’m just your average middle-aged small business owner,” she smiled. “We’ve never met.”

Silver snorted in frustration.

They took a couple more steps along the path.

“Well, maybe not middle aged, I hope. I’m still in my thirties, after all. Even if it _is_ late thirties…”

Silver rolled his eyes, and looked off to the side at the row of houses that lined the street.

“Ah, we’re not that far now,” Delia said. “My place is only about five blocks away. Three blocks up, and then two-”

“You know I don’t give a shit about you, right?” Silver interrupted. “I don’t care if you get in trouble with the police. What’s to stop me from taking off the first chance I get?”

They took a few more steps in silence. Delia held her head resolutely forward. And then…

“Well…” Delia shrugged. “Nothing, I guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this far! I should probably mention, this fic is a loose sequel to another story of mine, [Missed Signals, Lost Lines](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4239666). It’s a remix of Gen 1 canon, and features Green/Red, so it’s pretty different. You do _not_ need to read it to understand this story _at all_. But, as it probably won’t be spelled out here, Red has a pretty severe language disorder – so that’s part of what Delia has struggled with as a single mom.
> 
> And a note on character ages: I can’t actually deal with the fact that people in this universe allow prepubescent children to roam the countryside so, for the sake of this fic, the kids don’t start their Pokémon journeys until they’re 14~16 (Silver being an in-universe anomaly). The logic behind this is that Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh are sorta Japan and, in Japan, education is compulsory until the end of middle school (K-9). High school exists, but in the Pokémon world most people opt to not attend for the sake of fighting each other with magic animals.


End file.
